A Collection of Clace Oneshots
by 46AmityBread46
Summary: A series of long oneshots about Clary and Jace living multiple lives, with each oneshot unrelated to the previous one. AU. Oneshots.
1. Love At Someone Else's Wedding

The soft notes of a piano drifted through the atrium. Above her, flowers embraced each other and decorated the cream coloured walls. On the other side of the room, people gathered around the waiters who carried champagne and other fancy beverages.

Clary stood by the wall in the bridesmaid's dress and high heels, wearing the latter against her will. One of her hands fiddled with the lace on her light blue dress while the other clutched the stem of her glass. As she took a sip of the lemonade, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her stomach down. It would _not_ be good if she threw up at her mother's wedding.

She had been wanting to go outside, but the door was far from where she stood and the mere thought of walking that distance in her heels made her stomach churn. Clary didn't know why she felt sick, all she had had that morning was a cup of coffee.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Desperately, she tried focusing on her breathing instead of on the nauseous feeling in her stomach. It didn't appear to make any difference.

"Excuse me are you finished with your drink?" a male voice said. The voice belonged to a blond waiter dressed in black trousers and a black shirt.

Glancing down at the mint leaves wrinkled at the bottom of her drink, Clary nodded. She placed the glass on the tray balanced on his hand and watched him walk away. Then the sick feeling returned again.

Maybe she should have focused on sounds not her breathing. Yes, that was what she should probably have done.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the sweet tune of the piano, the way that the notes dipped and soared. And, miraculously, her stomach started to feel better, but not completely. So Clary headed towards the piano where it would be loudest.

She dodged a laughing couple, who were clutching champagne glasses, and dodged another waiter brandishing a tray before she made it to the piano.

It wasn't black like she had expected it; it was a magnolia colour. Balanced on the corner of the upright piano was a vase of fresh pink and white flowers. A long bench, with a velvet top, stretched the length of the piano. Upon it sat a man dressed in black like the rest of the waiters around the room.

For a few minutes, Clary just stood by the piano listening to the music, revelling in the absence of her nauseous feeling. Her feet were beginning to ache but she had no intention of leaving the piano in case she started to feel unwell again. So she asked the pianist if she could sit on the bench. He nodded, the music never faltering.

For a long time, she watched his long slender fingers play with more grace than she had in her entire body. But then he stopped. Confused, she turned to him.

"Why did you stop?"

"Look around you," he said gesturing with a single hand.

As she followed his hand she noticed something. The room was empty. Clary swore under her breath.

"Don't you need to go as well to, you know, have lunch and watch them cut their cake?"

Just the thought of food made her stomach protest. "If I go, I know I'm gonna throw up."

His eyes wandered over her face for a moment, presumably taking in her pale face. It was only then that Clary noticed the colour of his eyes. They were gold.

"D'you wanna go outside?" he asked.

Clary shook her head. "Can you play some more?"

Nodding, he turned back to the piano and soon the notes filled the empty room. She watched him play, the way he closed his eyes and the way his body shifted with the music. She was fascinated with the fact that he didn't follow any music sheets and instead played from memory. But once again he stopped.

"My shift's about to finish, do you wanna go outside now?"

"Okay."

Remarkably, Clary was feeling a lot better, but still not well enough to go back to her mum. So instead she followed the blond man who, when she thought about it, looked to be around 20 or so.

When they had made it outside, Clary stopped. Beneath her there was a staircase leading to the gardens below. If there was one thing in life she truly hated it would have to be going down staircases in heels. Every time she took one step she felt as if she going to hurtle down the remaining steps. She almost had that morning.

She had nearly made it through the stairs when she fell. Luckily, she was only on the bottom step. Unluckily, she landed on the ground with piles of lace around her.

"I have never seen anyone trip on thin air," the man said, teasingly.

"I'm wearing thses stupid heels," grumbled Clary.

"How do you trip on those?" he said helping her when she stumbled on her dress, "They're about an inch."

Clary didn't answer him and instead focused on not falling over again. She didn't want a stranger helping her. She didn't even know his name. She probably should have gone back inside but that option seemed boring

"Hey what's your name?"

He glanced sideways at her before answering with, "Jace. You?"

"Clary."

They had arrived at a small stone patio, tucked away from the wedding hall. There was a wooden railing on one side overlooking the golf course below. Jace immediately went over to the railing and leaned over it so that the slight wind combed through his hair.

"So which side of the family have you come for? Bride or groom?" he said, breaking the silence that Clary had been using to observe the grounds below.

"Umm, well my mum's the one getting married but Luke's going to be my step-dad so I guess both."

Jace stared at her for a few minutes, his eyes wide. "Don't you think they'll want you to be with them?"

Clary snorted as she sat down on an old stone bench. "Yeah, right. I'm sure my mum will be _really_ happy if I throw up on her and the cake. She knows I'm feeling ill. She'll be fine."

"Well if you're sure," Jace said, turning around so that he could face her. He had a faraway expression on his face as if he didn't notice the silence settling between them. Clary noticed. And she wanted to break it. She wanted to break it with something witty, creative and interesting. Instead she said, "How old are you?"

He jolted like he had forgotten she was there. "17, what 'bout you?"

"Yeah I turned 17 a couple days ago. But if you're 17 why are you playing at some wedding and not going to school or college?" Clary was genuinely curious.

"I never said I didn't. I needed money for college and I like the piano. So I got the job and play here in the holidays."

"You're good at it."

"Of course I'm good at it."

Clary decided to ignore his remark.

"How long have you been playing the piano?"

Jace laughed, a sound that Clary instantly wanted to hear again. "I've been playing it since I was 5. Don't you have a hobby that you really enjoy?"

"Yeah, art. But I'm not good at it."

"Well next time I want to see your work."

Clary's brain stopped at the 'next time'. What did he mean by 'next time'? He wanted to see her again? Here was a boy, who she barely knew, that wanted to see her again. That just didn't process in Clary's mind.

"Bye."

Her head snapped to the direction of the sound and her eyes took in the sight of Jace's retreating back. Until he had rounded the corner and disappeared, Clary's eyes were glued to the back of his figure.

What the hell had just happened?

She blinked a few times. He didn't seem quite real, their conversation was odd and brief. Maybe this hadn't happened. But she soon realised that it had when she went back to the place where he had been leaning against.

Above the brick, between the moss that filled the cracks, there was a piece of paper. Torn at the edges. With a string of numbers on it and written beneath it, in untidy handwriting, the initials JCH.

She didn't have to call him. Clearly it was her choice and the decision was in her hands. She didn't know him. She didn't even know what the 'CH' in 'JCH' stood for.

She didn't have to call him.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

The bedroom was dark, the curtains were drawn. Beneath the covers Clary lay, holding her phone.

And she did exactly what she had told herself she wasn't going to do: she texted him.

_Java Jones 2:30 on the 30th?_

She didn't even have to write her name because less than a minute later came the reply.

_okay clary_

Maybe she wasn't the only one holding her phone, waiting, at midnight.

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Nervous. That was what Jace felt as he sat on a threadbare sofa in Java Jones. Jace Herondale, who was never nervous about _anything_, was nervous about a girl. _A__ girl. _He didn't know what was wrong with him.

Last week,he had been completely absorbed in playing the piano. When he had heard someone ask if they could sit beside him, he simply nodded. It wasn't unusual. Often, some old lady would ask that but when his shift had ended and he finally saw the person sitting next to him, he froze.

Beside him sat a girl with long red hair and eyes like the green scales of a dragon. And he froze. He _froze_. He didn't have some smooth reply or witty comment. He had nothing. And it scared him.

When they were outside, he had tried to be nonchalant and act as if he wasn't affected by her present. Inside, however, his stomach felt as if it had suddenly been filled with snakes, coiling and uncoiling within him.

Then he had thought about leaving his number for her. So he had. And he left without a glance back, knowing that if he stayed the nervous feeling would return. And Jace didn't like that feeling, but he did like the girl

The scrape of a chair brought him out of his thoughts and into the present. Opposite him, Clary had dropped her bag, smiling at him.

"Hey," she said, catching sight of his coffee, "I'm gonna order, I'll be back in a bit."

Turning on her heel, she went over to the counter where the line was considerably shorter than when Jace had ordered. Even though she was gone, he couldn't drag his eyes from her hair. It was so _bright_. In the hazy air of the coffee shop, it was like a flicker of a flame in a shroud of smoke.

He only looked away when another person joined the queue, blocking Clary from his sight. Wrapping his hands around his mug, Jace took a small sip of his coffee, breathing in its sharp scent. He was trying to calm his heart down because the thought of her arm brushing his, when he had been playing the piano, had just entered his mind.

"I brought my sketchbook with me, 'cause y'know you asked for it last time," Clary said, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts.

Opposite to him, Clary was now rummaging around in her bag, while her hair fell in fiery tendrils around her face. Jace averted his eyes. Instead, he focused on the drink that she had just purchased.

"Is that just black coffee? Like, does it have any sugar?" Jace asked, purely out of curiosity. Jace couldn't imagine this girl, who was rather small looking, drink something so strong.

"Huh?" Clary said, glancing up from her bag, "Oh, yeah it is. Here's my sketchbook."

At first, she seemed hesitant to give it to him, and clung to it for a few more moments than necessary, but soon she handed it over to him. As he carefully opened the book, he wasn't expecting much, but when his eyes caught sight of the first drawing his breath got stuck in his throat. How could a pencil create something so _detailed_?

Every stroke of the pencil seemed to fit together and the proportions of the figure were accurate. The hair was drawn in such a way that he could see which strands of it had captured the light and which hadn't. There was only one word for this piece of work: breathtaking.

"This, Clary, this is good," Jace said, once he had recovered from the shock. Clary, who had had her lip between her teeth, smiled. "You think so? You're not just lying?"

Jace laughed, how could she be so oblivious? "Clary have you ever seen anyone else draw?"

"Well my mum, she's an artist, but not really anyone else."

"Well most normal kids haven't advanced from stick figures. I, personally, can't even do that."

Clary laughed at this. "But you're good at the piano."

"Maybe, but in all the competitions I've entered I've never won."

"I don't believe you. They just weren't listening properly when you played," Clary said fiercely. She seemed to have noticed what she'd said and a slight colouring tinted her cheeks.

"Well I auditioned to play with some orchestra in a few months so we'll see if you're right," Jace said, taking a long sip of his coffee.

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"Hey Claaaryyy."

"Claaaryyy."

Clary almost hung up when she heard Simon's voice.

"Simon, it's 9 on a Sunday morning. You better have good reason as to why you woke me up."

"And that I do have, Fray. I need you to come to band practice with me."

"When is it?" Clary asked. All she really wanted was some coffee, then maybe she'd get up. Maybe.

"Around lunch-ish."

"Lunch," Clary muttered, wracking her brain. Something important was happening at lunch... Something like...

"I'm meeting Jace at lunch. So, no I can't come."

"Clary this Jace guy is dodgy."

Clary just snorted.

"You're only saying that 'cause you're not my _only _friend now. How does the competition feel Simon?" she teased.

Simon muttered something that was lost over the phone.

"What about you and Isabelle, huh? I don't complain about you two."

"But that's because Izzy's my girlfriend."

"What if Jace was my boyfriend?"

Simon made a spluttering, choking sound on the other end of the phone whereas Clary burst out laughing.

"Relax, relax," Clary said in between her laughs, "He's not my boyfriend. He's only a friend."

Even though the words that Clary had said were true, that didn't mean that she was happy with them. Once Simon's choking had subsided, he spoke up again, "At least tell me when you're going to say something like that, Clary, so I can finish my drink."

"What's so wrong about Jace being my boyfriend, huh?" Clary asked.

"He just gets on my nerves, okay?"

"Okay fine, see you tomorrow Si," said Clary, hanging up the phone.

Once she had showered and had got dressed, Clary slipped her headphones into her ear. Whilst she was making her coffee, music blared through the small speakers. She was just lifting the cup to her lips, when her phone vibrated. Sighing, she flipped it over. It was probably Simon trying to annoy her again. She was wrong. It was Jace.

_you still free for lunch? _

Clary smiled. Whenever Jace sent her a text or called her, it usually made her day better. A lot of the calls had been him asking her if they could meet up someplace. Every one of those meetings had been great days.

_yeah but where're we going?__that's for me to know and you to find out__you're so annoying__I know but that's why everyone likes me so much including you_A smile surfaced upon Clary's face.

_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

It was that awkward time of the year when summer was officially over but autumn hadn't yet arrived. The trees were beginning to turn into beautiful hues of red and orange, but, occasionally, a warm breeze swept through the leaves, making the fallen ones dance across the floor.

Clary clutched the straps of her cloth bag as she saw Jace arriving. In one hand, he clutched a paper bag and in the other two bottles of water. When he saw her, he smiled.

"Good you're already here. If I had to wait any longer I'd probably eat your food as well."

Jace dropped down beside her, handing the her the paper bag. Inside were some apples, cheese sandwiches and a bar of fruit and nut chocolate, which Clary immediately pulled out.

"I made it myself," Jace said, eyes closed.

"What the chocolate?" she asked incredulously, as she unwrapped it and broke off a chunk. Jace snorted.

"Yes of _course _the chocolate, Clary. I just do that in my free time," said Jace sarcastically, while he snatched the chunk of chocolate from between her fingers. She retaliated by biting straight into the rest of the bar of chocolate.

Clary watched as Jace's eyes darted to her mouth, where it was undoubtedly covered in chocolate.

"That's disgusting," Jace said, once he looked away from her mouth and to the rest of the chocolate. Clary waved the bar of chocolate, with her teeth marks, in front of his face, teasingly.

"But you'll probably still eat it anyway."

He reached over her suddenly, pulling out the sandwiches from the paper bag.

"Ohhh, you made the sandwiches," Clary said, as she caught sight of the slightly lumpy pieces of bread.

"Finally, she gets it," Jace said, shooting her a grin. He handed her a sandwich. She took a large bite of it.

"Don't tell me that this is not delicious."

Clary swallowed and said, with a smothered laugh, "It's a good attempt."

"These are the sorts of things that hurt my ego."

Clary openly laughed at that. "You have the biggest ego ever. Nothing ever gets through that to you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, as they finished the sandwiches. Both of them were too hungry to do anything but eat. After she had swallowed the last bite, Clary pulled out her sketchbook. This one was her actual one.

When Jace had asked Clary, at her mother's wedding, to bring her sketchbook to him the next time they met, she hadn't. Instead, when they were at the coffee shop, she had brought a new sketch book with drawings she had done that very morning. Those sketches had not been personal, unlike the ones in the book she was holding now.

Over the past few weeks, Clary had been showing her real sketchbook to Jace and more often than not he'd be stunned. To say that this boosted Clary's confidence, in her artwork, was an understatement.

"I did a new sketch," Clary said, balancing the book on both of their laps. Jace, who had been taking a sip of his water, nodded eagerly. Slowly, simply to annoy him, she began to flip the pages, trying to find the right drawing.

"Oh my God, Clary, can you hurry up?" groaned Jace.

Finally, she turned the last page and handed the book to him. At first, his face was blank but that quickly changed to a look of shock and then awe.

"Wow, that's..."

"I take it that you like it," Clary said, laughing. It wasn't often that Jace was speechless and whenever she had shocked him it gave her a happy and satisfied feeling.

"I just... _How?_ How do you do this?" he asked, his mouth still open.

Clary just laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I don't know how I draw. I just do. But a lot of the skill comes from practice."

"Even if I practised, I'd probably be only able to draw a stick man , maybe with clothes if I got lucky."

"Well, at least I can be better than you in one thing," Clary said, her eyes closing.

Jace grumbled something that she couldn't catch. She felt her limbs begin to get slightly heavy, and the warm, happy feeling inside her was starting to make her feel sleepy. Maybe just a short nap...

"Umm, Clary, I hate to break to you, but this bench is not your bed."

He started jiggling his shoulder, so that her head started painfully bumping up and down.

"Could you be less annoying for once?" Clary said, rubbing her head.

"Not a chance. Now c'mon let's go on a walk."

When Clary just glared at him he said, "It'll wake you up better."

As he held out his hand , Clary took it and slung her bag over her shoulder, putting the chocolate bar and bottles of water inside of it. "Hey, did you still want the apple?" Clary asked, holding one out to Jace. He nodded and took it from her hand, while Clary bit into hers.

With their hands now joined, they walked for a while in a comfortable silence, through the tunnels of trees. Whenever the wind blew through them, their leaves would fall and twirl, like sparks from a fire.

"This time next year, you'll be in college. Are you excited?" Jace asked.

As she chewed on her apple, she thought about it. The prospect of going to college seemed exciting but daunting at the same time. She'd have to go to a new college without anyone she knew. Unsure of her reply, she answered with, "Aren't you?"

He swallowed a bit of his apple and said, "I don't know if I'm even gonna go."

Shocked, Clary asked, "Why not?"

"Well, it's not about the money, it's just that it's not that appealing to me. I mean can you imagine me behind a desk all day?"

"No, but you can sit behind your piano for _hours_," said Clary, grinning.

Smiling, Jace took the last bite of his apple and tossed it into a bin. "That's different because I _like_ sitting behind a piano and I _don't_ like sitting behind a desk."

Clary was just finishing her apple, when Jace spoke up again.

"Speaking about pianos -"

"We _were_ speaking about pianos. There was a huge gap," Clary said, throwing her apple into a metal trashcan.

"Well we're speaking about it now. I got in!" said Jace, grinning, his grip on her hand tightening.

"You got in to what?" said Clary, slowly.

"You know, that performance I auditioned for."

As he said those, she suddenly remembered when he told her about it, in that coffee shop, weeks ago.

"So I _was_ right," Clary said, looking up at his still grinning face. His smile softened as he said, "Yeah, you were."

"Well in that case..."

She hadn't planned for what had happened next, but she didn't regret any of it. Standing on the tips of her toes, Clary placed her hand on the side of his face and leaned in to touch her lips to his. Immediately, Jace cupped the back of her neck, kissing her back. Her neck and hands were tingling from his touch and she felt as if everything around them had suddenly gone and he was only the ononly thing there. Eventually, they had to pull away and, when they did, Jace rested his head on top of Clary's.

For a while, they were quiet and the silence unnerved Clary. What was he thinking? Had she just ruined their friendship? But then Jace spoke up, "I didn't think you'd ever do that."

"Well I did," Clary said.

"And, God, am I glad that you did. But I forgot to ask you, can you come to see me. It's next month, on the 18th."

"Of course I'll come," Clary said, so glad that nothing had gone wrong between them and that they could just continue on as if nothing major had happened.

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Over the next few weeks, Jace practised hard for his performance on the 18th. Both him and Clary didn't go out that often together, partly because of the weather but also because of how busy he had become. Between rehearsals with the rest of the people he was playing with and practising by himself, time that they had to spent together was rare and, when they did, it was usually in front of Jace's piano.

He could remember one time when Clary had simply sat beside him for three hours straight as he played, with her head resting on his shoulder. That was probably one of the best days he'd had in a while. But now, it was November 18th and it was the day that Jace was performing.

He was currently standing backstage with cables and odd bits of furniture surrounding him. Around him, performers held their instruments. He could hear the sound of a violin being played onstage and the thought that after they had finished he would have to play made his palms sweat.

A few minutes later, a loud round of claps rang throughout the room and, suddenly, people were ushering him on stage. As he walked across it, he tried to compose himself looking straight ahead for the person that would signal for him to begin.

When they did, he took a deep breath and then began. At first, the presence of the audience unnerved him but soon he forgot about them and was lost in the music like always. So, when he finished playing, he was startled to hear claps from hundreds of people.

Standing up, he caught sight of Clary, easily noticed with her bright red hair among muted colours. She was smiling at him and he smiled back. He had been worried that she wouldn't have been able to make it, but she had.

Once he was backstage, he finally let out a deep breath. A few people congratulated him but most were too wrapped up in their own nerves. He stayed there while the rest of the performers played and this time he could appreciate how skilled they were.

An hour later he was in the foyer amidst people wearing formal attire although there was only one person that he was looking for and that was Clary. His adopted mother and siblings were beside him congratulating him and handing him a bouquet of flowers.

"I told you you wouldn't make any mistakes," Max Lightwood, his six year old brother, said gleefully.

"Yeah, yeah, well done. We've heard you play that like a thousand times, we knew you weren't gonna mess up," Isabelle said, "Now can we go. I don't wanna stay around and watch Jace make out with his girlfriend."

"No, you wanna go and do that with Simon," Jace retorted.

Izzy just grinned and said, "Maybe."

"Where's Alec?" Jace asked, though he suspected where he might be. Whenever they all went out he usually didn't come, he was instead with his boyfriend.

"He said he was ill," Maryse said. So he was with his boyfriend.

It was at that moment that Clary appeared beside Jace which caused Izzy to say, "And that's our que to leave."

"Bye Jace and Clary!" Max shouted, as he was dragged away by Isabelle.

Jace waved at Max before he turned to Clary. In her hands she had a smaller bunch of flowers, flowers that were in shades of reds and oranges.

"Hey, I got you these," she said, handing the flowers to him and revealing a grey dress behind them. With difficulty, he took them.

"You know I'm not a flower kinda guy, you didn't have to get me them."

"Yeah, but that's what people do at these things, so suck it up," she said grinning.

"How long have you got 'til you have to get home?" Jace asked.

"Well Mum's at Luke's and Jon's out with his friends so they won't notice that I'm gone. I've probably got all night."

"Good," Jace said. "We can actually spend some time together now."

After dodging a couple groups of people, they finally made it to the entrance and into the cold air outside, where their breaths curled from out of their mouths. At regular intervals, streetlights stood on the sidewalk, creating small circles of light in the darkness.

It took them a few minutes to reach Clary's car as she had parked it in the corner. Once inside, Jace tossed his flowers onto the backseat.

"Hey! Watch it, those were expensive," Clary said, as she pulled out of the car park.

Ignoring that, Jace asked, "Where are we going?"

"Where do you want to?"

"Now that you mention it, I'm kinda hungry..."

"Okay Taki's it is then," Clary said, as she took a sharp right turn onto a small road.

Jace leaned back and closed his eyes. It was only now that the tiredness took over. He only realised now how little sleep he'd had over the last few weeks. In the foyer, everyone had been congratulating him but now that he was alone with Clary he could finally relax.

With his eyes only open a crack, he watched the blurs of gold and black fly by. He kept on watching until his eyes closed all the way.

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He awoke to the smell of French fries. Rubbing at his face, he looked around for Clary and was met with the sight of her eating. She swallowed, before she said, "Finally, the old man awakes."

He just snatched some of the chips from her and stuffed them into his mouth. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he mumbled from around another mouthful of food.

"You just looked so tired. I mean your eyes basically look like they belong to a panda," she said, opening the door and slipping outside. Jace followed her onto the bonnet of the car.

Even though he didn't know where they were, he knew that they were far away from the city because there was no light pollution and the stars were bright. Around them the nearly empty branches of the trees swayed in the slight cool breeze. Jace didn't notice the cold because Clary's hand was in his and he could feel her warmth along the side of his body.

For a while they were just silent, eating their food and enjoying their first proper moment together for a long time. That was until Clary broke the silence.

"What are you going to do now?"

It was a question that could have had many answers. She may have wanted to know what he was going to do with the rest of his life (like college) or perhaps it was just a simple one, about his near future. So he replied with the answer he was most sure with, he kissed her.

He buried his hand in her hair, feeling the way it curled around his fingers. At the same time, her small hands, that were much stronger than they looked, wrapped around his back. They only thing keeping him from falling.

When they broke apart, with Clary's fast breaths tumbling over his face, they only stayed there for a few moments before she kissed him again. Even though this kiss was much shorter, it ended with words that meant more than kisses. "I love you," she said, her eyes closed and face open.

He paused. She had just omitted something incredibly important and she was now before him with nothing. Everything was stripped away and he had the power to hurt her. But he didn't because she trusted him and he her.

And that was why he replied with those same simple words that were so difficult to say, "I love you, too Clary."

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

"Is it annoying you that someone else is playing the piano?" Clary asked, while Jace's arms were wrapped around her waist.

"Of course it does! I play way better than them. I just want to march up there and play it properly," he replied, his lips brushing against her forehead.

"I see that your piano means more to you than your own wife," Clary said grinning. The last word still seemed unusual, just like the new ring on her finger, that had only been added earlier on that day.

"You know that it doesn't," Jace said, softly, instantly serious.

"Well that's a relief," Clary said. "It's always good to know that I mean more to you than some pieces of wood."

He rolled his eyes, laughing, before pulling her away from the dance floor and towards a passing waiter from which he stole a glass from. Holding it out to her, he asked, "D'you want some?"

Looking down at it she realised that it was lemonade, in a glass similar to the one that she had drank from years ago at another wedding. "Sure," she said, as he tipped it towards her mouth.

Immediately, she choked on it, the liquid lodged in the wrong airway. Beside her, Jace was rubbing her back, trying not to laugh. "How many times have you done that today? Clearly you're choking on your drinks because you see how good I look in this suit."

"Actually, it's how bad you look in that suit," she said, teasingly tugging on a lock of his hair.

He leaned down quickly to kiss her lips and, just as quickly, moved away.

"Are you wearing heels? 'Cause you're still kinda short."

"Shut up. It's not my fault I'm married to a giant."

"Im not even that tall though, compared to you everyone's a giant."

"Compared to you everyone's a midget," muttered Clary, not angry because Jace was just teasing. Besides she always annoyed him about his irrational fear of ducks.

"Clary! Jace!"

As she turned around, a ball of dark suit and dark hair ran into Jace, wrapping their arms around him. Soon after Izzy appeared, looking dazzling in a short mint green dress.

The dark ball lifted up its head so that Max's pale face could be seen, his grey eyes large in comparison to his small face.

"I haven't seen you all day, Jace. Well apart from when you and Clary were kissing," he said, looking up at Jace.

"When Max? You'll have to be more specific," said Isabelle. "Jace is always kissing his girlfriend."

"Wife, Izzy. Where've you been for the last 5 hours?"

"You guys literally met, like, two years ago and now you're married. So it's not my fault I got your relationship status wrong," Isabelle said, grinning. It was true. They hadn't been dating for too long before Jace proposed and, although Clary had been slightly apprehensive, she had agreed. One of the reasons for her apprehension was that she was still in college, and would still be for a while. However, Jace wasn't and he had a job and an apartment (although the latter was rather small).

"Now if you'll excuse me," Izzy said. "I've got to go find Simon." Her eyes were looking around the room, pausing every few moments, before she darted off into the crowd of milling people.

"Max, I think you should follow Izzy. Simon probably wants to talk to you about the latest comic he's reading," Jace said. Clary knew that this was most likely not true and that he was only saying this to spend his time with Clary alone.

"Okay," Max said, completely oblivious to Jace's ulterior motives.

"You're such a horrible brother," Clary said, when Max left. "You know he looks up to you. The least you could do was talk to him."

"I can do that any other day, but I can't enjoy today any other time. I wanna show you something, come on."

She laced her fingers with his as he lead her away from where they had been and through the many people at their wedding. They had wanted a small wedding and, while Jocelyn thought that it was small, Clary thought that it wasn't, but at least she knew everyone here. There weren't any of her mother's work colleagues that she had never heard of and that was always great.

Between getting stopped by guests to chat and people congratulating them, it took them a while to get to the other side of the room. Once there, Clary slipped through the doors behind Jace and suddenly they were in the quiet atrium where the flowers embraced each other on the cream coloured walls. It was the exact same room that they had met two years ago.

"I thought, I'd play the piano, 'cause you know..." he trailed off, as he sat down on the seat.

"You say this but really you just wanted to get away from the guy playing really badly in there," Clary said, laughter in her voice.

"You know me too well."

She sat down cautiously, trying to make sure her skirt didn't get caught anywhere. When she was seated, Jace closed his eyes and began to play while Clary lay her head upon his shoulder. He played the same song that she had first heard him play. All the memories came back, not only of the first time she'd heard him play, but _all _of the times.

Gently, she leaned up and placed her hand on his cheek, using it to move his head so that it faced hers and she could kiss him. Slowly, they kissed with Clary clutching Jace's hair but Jace holding her waist so as not to mess up her perfectly styled hair. When they finally pulled away, Clary leaned back in to kiss him and Jace responded quickly but then broke off. He answered her questioning look with, "I haven't finished the song."

With that, they returned back to their original positions, with Clary's head resting on his shoulder.

The soft notes of a piano drifted through the atrium.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

**_So the plan is to make a bunch of long oneshots because ibmve had so many ideas floating around in my head but I'll probably only continue if you want me to, so if you do please leave a review!!_****_Thank you to everyone who read this and made it to the end!!_****_(if you've got any suggestions for more oneshots write them below) _**


	2. Hundreds of Feet off The ground

It was high.

He was high.

He was hundreds of feet off the ground. And he could fall any second. But he wouldn't.

Below him, The City spread out, a concrete jungle that housed hundreds of thousands of people, full of buildings that were so strange he wasn't sure whether they could be classed as a building. He never understood why people wanted to make obscure building shapes. For instance, the house in front of him had only three sides while one further down was made of five glass spheres, joined together haphazardly. The design served no purpose. The quality of their life wouldn't have altered drastically as a result of the shape of their home.

Lifting up his hover board, he slung his backpack over one shoulder and headed away from the building's edge and towards the glass doors leading to the rest of the house. He'd been watching the house (skyscraper really) for a while now. No one had entered or exited the building for the past few days. It was the perfect place to spend a few nights.

There was a keyhole in the door, which was surprising. He hadn't seen one of those in while. With the speed and precision that only comes with experience, he picked the lock letting himself into the interior of the house.

Methodically, his eyes swept over the wooden floors and white walls, looking for the security controls. Bingo. They were in the corner of the room, only a few feet away, fortunately.

Taking out an oblong object, he quickly swept the room for where the security sensors were placed. There were none between him and the control box. How stupid of them.

The control box was a small white box mounted on the wall. Any normal person would probably walk past at least a hundred of those in a day, but few of them would probably know how to disable them. They needed a password. That was the only way, well officially at least. Unofficially, you could disable them with a small, smart device that was called a Sensor. Jace had purchased his at a black market, but it had been expensive. Naturally, he had stolen the money to buy it.

Quickly, he attached the device to the side of the panel which, in turn, allowed him to flip the cover of it so that the switches and buttons were revealed. Carefully, he shut down the security systems and, once the flashing light had disappeared, he let out a sigh.

A few days of relaxation and living in a house with everything he wanted was what he needed. He didn't need to worry about anything for the next couple of days now.

Having decided that he wanted a shower, he went down the hallway in search of a bathroom. There were, at the very least, probably 50 in this building. It wasn't unusual.

He took the stairs ignoring the elevator as he didn't like the feeling of being cornered in, trapped in a small room. On top of that, he'd also heard tales of the doors sealing unwanted intruders inside of them. He didn't want to take that kind of risk which was ironic considering his lifestyle.

Two flights of stairs, four rooms and three corridors later, he finally found a bathroom. The rooms that he had previously stumbled upon were full of the things that only the rich people in the world took for granted, such as floor to ceiling TV screens and automated kitchen lighting.

The bathroom there was not an exception. As soon as he stepped into it, the lights detected him and flooded the room with light. Half of the gadgets in the bathroom Jace had never even heard of before.

First, he headed over to the mirror to see if he looked as bad as he felt. He did. A tired face looked back at him, the dark shadows beneath his golden eyes, that used to be bright, prominent. His blond hair was tangled and dirty, reminding him that he hadn't had a shower in days. Sighing, he pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower.

Immediately, water hit him from all directions, the exact temperature that he had wanted. There were other options that he could chose from as well. For example, he could choose from hundreds of scents which would dissolve into the water. Jace chose honeysuckle. It remained him of home. A place he hadn't had in a while.

Once he had shampooed and washed his hair, he climbed out of the shower. Instantly, he was hit with hot air that appeared to have blasted from a vent beneath his feet. In moments, his body was completely dry, though his hair was slightly damp still.

He didn't feel inclined to put on his dirty clothes again, so he decided to just wear a towel until he found some clean clothes. That was another thing about the rich, they had hundreds of clothes in multiple sizes and styles placed in one of their numerous wardrobes. Jace doubted whether anyof them were even used, they were only used to fill up empty space.

He left the bathroom, in search of a wardrobe, but he instead stumbled upon something strange. It was a bedroom but that was the only normal thing about it. Inside the walls were painted a bright orange colour, and not a crisp white. Upon them, dozens of sketches and drawings were taped. Also, there didn't appear to be any complicated electronic gadgets in the room. The most complex thing was probably the lamps.

He went into the room and was about to look more closely at one of the sketches, when he heard someone.

"If you don't turn around, and put your hands in the air, I swear to God that this baseball bat is going to come in contact with your head."

Slowly, he turned around and almost burst out laughing. A girl, who looked around three years younger than him and was also considerably shorter than him, clutched a baseball bat. A furious glare resided on her face.

"Now answer this question: what the hell are you doing here?"

"Are you really in a position to be asking the questions, little girl?" Jace hoped to have her believe that he had the upper hand.

"My name's not little girl," she said through gritted teeth, "And I am in the position to be asking questions. I'm holding the baseball bat, not you."

"You probably wouldn't be able to hurt a fly even if you tried. What are you, thirteen?"

"Seventeen actually. And do you want me to test out your first statement?" she asked, eyebrows raised so that they nearly touched her curly red hair. Jace thought that she was lying about her age. She was definitely not the same age as himself.

"Okay fine what do you want?" Jace asked wearily.

"What do I want? I wanna know why you're in my house half naked."

It was only then that he noticed that he was only dressed in a towel. "Does that really matter?" he said, giving her a lazy smirk.

She rolled her eyes. It was at that moment that he realised that she was not going to budge. She radiated a sort of stubbornness that Jace knew, from experience, that she wouldn't be easy to deal with.

He was tired and he wasn't in the mood for dealing with her. He wasn't going to see her again after this day, he could let his defences slide for a few minutes. Would it really matter in the long run?

"Fine. I needed a place to stay. Not everyone's rich like you." The last part came out as a mutter.

"Yeah I know that. I know that thousands of people are pushed out of the city every day. I know." She said the words so angrily and Jace thought that she had no right to that anger. After all, she had a home and food every day. Suddenly, his anger had come back.

"What do you know about that? You're just some spoilt brat," he said harshly. She glared at him as she crossed the room.

Dropping her baseball bat, she sat down heavily on her desk chair.

"What do _I_ know? What don't I know? Valentine keeps on going on about all the families he's ruined and all the new buildings he's making where they used to live. And it's my fault." As she said the last sentence she wrapped her arms around her waist, so that she looked even smaller.

She was acting to make him feel like she cared when in reality Jace thought that she didn't.

"Look, stop pretending that it's your fault -"

"_Pretending_?" Genuine disbelief could be seen in her wide eyes and open mouth. "I'm Valentine's daughter, but I never once stopped him."

For a moment there was silence, in which Jace used to study the girl. As much as he hated to admit it, the emotions on her face were real. If there was thing that he was good at it would have been how easily he could read people. He was feeling exactly what she was feeling, a weariness that meant that she'd dropped her defenses too.

"So if you're Valentine's daughter, whoever he is, your name is..." he trailed off, hoping that she'd answer. He was beginning to feel terrible at the things that he had said. Even though he constantly stole and broke into houses, he, contrary to popular belief, had emotions and was feeling guilty at how he'd made the girl upset.

"Clary." He looked up and saw that the girl, who now had a name, was standing up, all traces of her unhappiness wiped away.

"Jace. I'm Jace," he replied, as he hoped to alleviate the tension in the room. Suddenly, Clary was standing in front of him and she was looking a lot scarier than she had been five seconds ago. "If you tell anyone what you saw, I swear to God that you'll be regretting your choices."

"Saw what? What did I see?" asked Jace, not entirely sure if she was talking about how her name had slipped out or about how she was feeling because he didn't realise that anyone but him would get that angry at their emotions being shown.

"Good," she said, "I'll get you some clothes now."

"Hold on a sec," said Jace, his fingers closing around her much smaller wrist, "what do I need clothes for? I'm leaving."

"Oh no you're not! You're staying here."

"Yeah, right. I don't wanna be your charity case."

Clary heaved a huge exaggerated sigh, "Look, I'm doing this for selfish reasons, not because I pity you. If I save one person from a life on the streets it'll make me feel as if I'm not that bad a person, and at least I tried."

She looked up at him and he realised that it wasn't her helping him. It was him helping her.

"Fine," he muttered. "But I'm not staying forever."

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

It had been two weeks. But he didn't want to leave yet.

Him and Clary had become . . . He didn't know what to call them. They were what he supposed were friends, but Jace's ever nearing departure was something they avoided. They weren't the greatest of friends because of that. If he got to know her better then he would get attached. So for now they were just people pretending to be friends, when they both knew that it'd never last.

Currently, he was sitting on a leather sofa in one of the many living rooms that this building held. But unlike all the others, this one was bright and lively, like Clary's bedroom. It also didn't have any of the electronic gadgets that all the other rooms contained, as if someone were trying to pretend that they weren't in The City.

Clary had told Jace that she preferred not to use any of the modern technology, for reasons that she had not shared with him. The only reason why there was any in the house was because it was her dad's and he had placed it there. Even though Jace had no personal hatred of technology (it _was_ convenient to use when he broke into houses), he respected her wishes and so he didn't use it.

Well apart from his hover board. She'd told him that she was okay with him using one, that she enjoyed using one herself, but that was the only thing that she let him use.

So instead, he spent his time reading paperback books (which he thought only existed digitally) and, when Clary wasn't at school, playing board games with her or spending the evening flying over the rooftops of the buildings around them.

He was currently reading his book when Clary came in. Held tightly in her hand was a mobile phone, which she only used to only receive calls from Valentine, her father.

Taking note of the tightness of her hand and jaw, Jace asked, "What's the matter?"

"Valentine's coming home tomorrow," she said, as she sat down beside him.

"And I'll have to go, won't I?"

"What? No! I didn't mean that. I just . . . It's nicer at home without him."

Jace was silent. He didn't know why she hated Valentine so much, but he knew that her hatred was personal, and it wasn't just because he broke up families.

"You know what, let's not talk about him. I'm gonna be late for school, so let's go." She stood up and left the room, leaving him no chance to argue.

Ten minutes later, they were soaring between the skyscrapers on their hover boards, Clary in front and Jace behind. Riding a hover board was like riding a bike - at least that was what his dad had told him for he had never actually _seen_ a working bike, much less ridden one. Once you had learnt how to balance upon it, you never forgot, and with balance came the ability to steer. Having said that, Jace thought that it was probably harder riding a hover board because if you fell you would probably face certain death.

He suddenly veered to the right as Clary took a sharp turn in between two buildings. That was another good thing about hover boards, they were small and agile and, if you were skilled on them (like Jace was because he had had years to practise), they were the quickest and easiest mode of transport in busy cities.

Jace watched as Clary leaned forward slightly, her front foot slightly lower than her back so that she was descending. He followed and soon they were outside her school. It was a large, low building made of glass and steel, joined together to make a strange shape that Clary liked to joke was similar to a coffin. Jace didn't disagree.

"Another six hours of torture, yay," said Clary, as she shoved her board into her bag.

"Oh come on," said Jace, "it can't be worse than sitting alone in a big building for hours."

"You're lucky, you haven't had to go through this _delightful_ experience for years," she said sarcastically.

"You could always bunk."

"And have Valentine murder me when he finds out - yeah, no."

"Suit yourself," he said, hopping back onto his board. "I'll see you in six _very_ long hours."

He flew up towards the tops of buildings but, just as he was about to turn a corner, he looked back at Clary.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

Jace had left so abruptly that Clary didn't even get a chance to change her mind because, as she saw his figure shrink, she realised that that was what she wanted to do. Just as he was about to disappear completely, he turned around and gave her a smirk. She replied with turning her back on him.

She could have gone after him, after all her mother had taught her how to fly her hover board and her mum had been _excellent _at riding her own hover board.

But Maia, her only friend, had seen her and was running towards her. She couldn't leave now.

"Hey, Clary," she said, once she had reached her. "Have you changed your mind about not coming over later?"

For the past few days, Maia had repeatedly asked (begged) Clary to come over to her house but Clary had denied each time. The reason for this was Jordan, her boyfriend. As much as she loved Maia, she knew that she was just third wheeling whenever she spent time with her. But she couldn't tell Maia that.

"Nope."

"Come on, it'll only be for a few hours."

"Look I'm busy Maia. My dad's coming back tomorrow."

Maia shut up at that. She knew all about her dad and her mum and what had happened. She was the only person she'd ever told.

"Let's go, we're gonna be late," Maia said, changing the subject rapidly. She leadmk

her into the hallway of the school.

"Since when have you ever been worried about being late?"

"Since I got a detention yesterday for being late to maths."

"You got a _detention_?" Clary said, fake gasping. "And I always thought that you were a good girl."

"That, I'm afraid, is you Clary."

They had stopped by her locker and she was swiping her card to unlock it. She watched Maia take out her piles of books and stuff it into her bag. Looking at all of Maia's homework reminded Clary of all of _her _homework and when she thought about that her mind inevitably strayed to Jace's offer. If she had gone with him she wouldn't have had to make up an excuse for why she hadn't done any of her homework.

But she hadn't taken up his offer and now she was stuck trying to make up excuses that were vaguely believable.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

Valentine's bedroom was _much _bigger than any that Jace had seen before. It had taken up two floors, so that the ceiling was far above his head. Thin wires dangled from the ceiling, holding glass in the shape of diamonds so that when the room was dark, the diamonds lit up like stars.

Currently, the stars were off and the lights were on. Jace was crouching by the side of a huge, white bed, searching underneath it.

"So what do you think it'll look like?" he asked peering over the top of the bed. Clary was on the other side of the room, carefully and methodically searching through a wardrobe. When she heard Jace's voice, she turned around.

"A small hardrive about this big, it's white. You'll know when you find it."

"Okay..." Jace said, still not convinced.

Crouching down again, he swept his arm across the floor beneath Valentine's bed. Beneath his fingers, he felt something - or the lack of it. There was supposed to be wood but instead he could feel a circular hole. Searching it with his fingers, he could feel something shift.

Next thing he knew, he was holding a small wooden ring, he tugged and heard the sound of wood against wood. He could feel something heavy attached to the ring and, once he had removed his hand from under the bed he found out that it was a small wooden box.

"Hey Clary! I found something. I won!" he shouted.

"It wasn't a game, Jace," she said, as she walked towards him.

"You're just saying that 'cause you lost."

She rolled her eyes as she lay down beside him, elbows propping herself up. Her curly hair spilled across the floor tickling his bare arm.

"So come on, let's see what's in it," she said, snatching it out of his hand and opening up the box. Leaning over her shoulder, he peered into the box.

Inside there were hundreds of tiny pictures, each of them showcasing a woman with red hair, who looked similar to Clary, and a guy with white-blond hair. It was strange because pictures weren't printed out usually, like everything else, they were all digital. Clary tipped over the box impatiently, scattering the paper.

She was shoving aside the pictures frantically, as if the sight of them was a flame to her eyes. One of the pieces of paper skidded to Jace's knee. In this image the two people were holding hands as someone else held the camera. They were both smiling.

"Found it!" Clary shouted, jumping away from the pictures, clutching the small memory stick. She was already heading towards the door.

"Shouldn't we be clearing this up?" he asked, but he may as well not have said anything because she was gone.

"Fine, I'll just do it myself," he muttered. He picked up the pictures, remembering Clary's face as she had searched through them. Suddenly, he stopped as an idea hit him. Instead of putting the photos back into the box, he shoved them into his pocket and then slotted the wooden box back into its place beneath the bed.

Five minutes later, he found Clary, in her bedroom. She had a bag on her bed and was stuffing her clothes into it.

"Go pack, we're going in an hour. That should give us enough time to leave," she said, dropping her pencil case into her bag.

"Why do we need to leave?" Jace asked.

"Do you think Valentine's _not_ going to notice that we stole his hard drive? The one that contained basically all of his plans for the new houses he's building and the work that he spent the last year doing." She slotted her sketchbook into the rucksack.

"What? So we're just going to leave, and not come back?"

"That's the idea, genius." For once he had no sarcastic remark, he was just trying to process Clary's sudden decisions.

Clary had her bag slung over her shoulders, giving her room one last look. Most of the sketches hung on the wall had been stripped off, and the room looked as if a stampede of animals had just passed through.

"Right let's go, we're not getting any younger." Clary began shoving him, which was probably embarrassing for her because she couldn't move him very far. Deciding to put her out of her misery, he walked out of her room, down the hallway and into his bedroom.

He didn't have to pack much because all of his belongings, apart from a jacket hung on the back of his door, were in his bag. This was because if he were to unpack that would mean that he was staying with Clary. He liked it with Clary (after months of solitude her company was great) but he knew that he'd never stay forever. And he guessed that that was true, but he'd always imagined leaving by himself and not with Clary.

Slipping his arms into his jacket sleeves, he pulled his head through the neckline.

"Right you're packed, you're ready, let's go, we're wasting daylight," Clary said, marching out of the room and down the hallway. She tugged her hair beneath her jacket and slipped the hood on, probably so that she wouldn't be recognised. After all who _wouldn't _recognise that red hair?

"What's got you in this mood? You're usually pretty chill," he asked as he covered his head with his hood. She began running up the stairs at a speed that didn't look possible for such short legs.

"What's gotten me in this mood? I'm not in a mood, I'm fine and not stressed or anything. I'm totally fine and chill."

"Yeah, okay..." he said, deciding to let it go because they had arrived at the roof and the air was still. This was the best kind of weather: it was easy to steer a hover board when there was no wind. Ahead of him, Clary had hers out and had hopped onto it.

"Wait a minute," Jace said, grabbing onto her sleeve. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He was only asking because he knew that this was Clary's last chance. If she left now, she'd never be coming back, never be coming back to the only home she knew.

"Hell _yes_. I've been waiting for this moment for years." Jace wasn't sure whether she was telling the truth, her decision had appeared to be made in the last couple of minutes, _not _years. But something inside of him didn't want to argue with her decision and instead he agreed to it.

Quickly, he pulled out his hover board and shifted onto it.

"You ready?" Clary asked, looking back at him.

"Yeah," he exhaled as she suddenly accelerated. He did the same, the wind pushing his hood off his hair. As they flew through the air, Jace watched Clary's hood get slowly pushed back, letting her hair free so that it flew behind her like a flag. He wasn't sure where they were going, and he wasn't sure that Clary knew, but he didn't care, because flying cleared his mind.

The sheer height that they were at was breathtaking. It was almost as if no one else in the world existed, because really everyone else was so far away, you couldn't see them. Because of the height, he could truly take in the size of The City and he felt tiny, as if he had suddenly been dropped into some kid's plastic, toy town. He felt insignificant, but that didn't matter.

When they finally stopped, it was only to charge their hover boards. The charging station was situated conveniently at the top of a tall building (most hover boards flew high so there was no point in a station being on the ground).

Wordlessly, Clary plugged her hover board into a cable for the electricity. Jace did the same and, for a while, they were silent. The whole rooftop was silent as well because it was empty except for the two of them.

Clary wandered to the edge of the roof and rested her elbows on the wall. Slowly, she tipped her head down so that her hair fell over the side of the building. He joined her, leaning over the wall as well, peering into a city full of everything that anyone could want. There was a possibility that happiness could be found here, but Jace knew that he'd never find his here.

"Who were the people in the photos?" he asked quietly, breaking their silence. For a while, Clary was silent not moving, not showing any signs that meant that she'd heard his question. He was about to ask again, when she spoke, "My parents."

He knew that something had happened to her mother because Clary didn't mention her often. He didn't want to ask whether was dead or not, but he wanted to know. It didn't matter anyway, Clary still told him as if she could read his thoughts. "No my mum's not dead. Well the last I heard of her she wasn't dead. And that was when I was around ten, when she left me, so, y'know, for I all I know she could be. Seven years is one hell of a long time."

She paused, tilting her head to the left, facing away from Jace. In the absence of her voice, he could hear the distant sounds of cars and traffic, of the close sound of wind blowing through the rooftops.

"If you're wondering whether I hate her, for leaving me with a monster, I don't. I did at the time, but I was only ten. I didn't understand why she left me behind but I realised about a year ago." She said her words as if she was just tired, not in the way that you feel from lack of sleep, but just a heavy weariness. When she didn't continue, Jace prompted her, "Why did your mum leave?"

"At the time I didn't know, but I've been thinking for a good couple of years and I realised why. She left in the same way I just left. This city, though admittedly nice, is not the place to live your life. It's empty, not physically, but you know."

He did know. Like she had said, The City wasn't empty, there were hundreds of thousands of people living there, but it felt empty, he felt as if there was nothing there for him.

"And it didn't help that her husband was destroying lives for a living. I've been there, when they do that. It's the kind of stuff you hear about and you're like 'oh that's really terrible' and maybe you remember it for a few minutes but then it goes out of your head and life goes on, for you at least. But when you see it with your own eyes, those things don't leave your mind easily.

"So that's why my mum left and I don't blame her, I mean I look back on my childhood and I remember hearing her tell my dad that what he did _wasn't right _ and she tried, she really did. But she failed."

Jace couldn't think of a reply. Clary had just told him personal things, things that would matter and that would make them linked now, now he'd be attached, because suddenly the things they were talking about weren't trivial.

"But why don't you hate your mum? She left you with your dad." His head couldn't wrap around the fact that she didn't hate the person who had left her with a monster.

"Because staying with my dad kept me safe. Yeah sure I was unhappy, but if I went with my mum, it wouldn't have been easy. I mean I was _ten_. Anywhere my mum could've gone would never've been safe." Jace understood now. He'd seen the darker side of The City, where a lot of people resided. It was the only place for people who weren't filthy rich.

It was either in those places or not in The City at all, but instead in far off towns that Jace had only ever heard of, places that had been relatively untouched by modern technology. But he'd never seen one of them, only heard of them as if they were some fairytale.

Jace suddenly thought of something that he could say.

"I've got something for you."

Clary lifted her head from the stone wall and looked him in the eyes, eyebrows raised. Her face had taken on that heavy weariness that her voice had.

"What is it?"

Reaching into his pocket, Jace grabbed one of the photos that he had stuffed into it earlier on.

"Give me your hand," he said. She did, but uncertainly. Placing the photo in her palm, he curled her fingers around it and then removed his hand.

When she held the photo in both hands, she gave a humourless laugh. "You thought this would make me better? I don't hate my mum, but that doesn't mean I like these photos."

"I know you do. That's why I gave it you. Shred it up and then drop it."

"What?" She looked at him as if he had just spoken German.

"Do it. Remember that Valentine's never getting these pictures back. He's never going to see the photos that he'd secretly stashed beneath his bed. Destroy something that's important to him." He knew that his words would make Clary angry. He knew that Clary _hated_ the fact that Valentine kept photos of a wife that loathed him. He knew that Clary would rip apart all of the photos that he had. And he was right.

Beside her, Clary viciously tore the photo into tiny pieces, into smaller pieces than than what came out of a paper shredder. Jace watched them all fall like the petals of a white blossom tree caught in the wind. He had seen one of those a few years ago.

He hadn't seen anything as real and beautiful like that since.

When Clary was done with the first photo, Jace handed her the rest and she tore them all without any pauses, without any second thoughts. Until she reached the last one.

Jace could see that this picture was different. Unlike all of the other ones, this one had three people in it. Clary's parents stood side by side, hands clasped, her mother's head resting upon Valentine's shoulder. In front of them however, a short girl with carrot-coloured hair, held an ice cream, a large grin across her face.

Then a rip marred the face of the tiny girl and Jace realised that Clary was tearing the photo up into tiny pieces.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

The next couple of days consisted of them riding their hover boards as far as they could and breaking into other people's houses to sleep, which was a first for Clary. Though not for Jace. Apparently, Jace was some sort of expert on breaking into buildings.

It took a few days but finally they had left The City and all of the suburbs that clung to it. Then they had just been in the countryside, which Clary had never seen before, sleeping beneath the stars whenever night visited. Luckily, Jace had thought to buy some batteries to power their hover boards because they hadn't seen any sign of life for a while. Until yesterday.

They had been talking, well Jace had mostly, about their childhoods and Clary had never learnt so much about someone.

She had learnt that his mother had died young and he'd been brought up by his dad, but that only lasted until he was around fifteen because his dad too had passed away. His father's death had not been caused by illness, only his mother had died like that. Instead, his dad had passed away in his sleep.

That was all he'd said. Jace hadn't cried or said it in a trembling voice. While he spoke, he had remained emotionless, his face impassive his voice empty. Clary had put her arms around him uncertainly, because sometimes the only thing you needed was to feel someone beside you. Jace had hesitantly returned the hug, as if he'd never really given one before.

It was at that moment that Clary realised that she couldn't leave him. She had spent the past few days with only him as her company and they had begun to share things that were personal, words that _meant _stuff. Even if they just spent the rest of their time together flying in the sky, she knew that she'd never leave.

Jace was the only person who she had ever grown close to.

After they'd hugged they put out their fire and turned to go to bed. But when Jace had turned away, he'd froze. Clary had followed his gaze and saw what he'd seen.

Dozens of lights in the distance.

And they weren't near any cities that had been on maps, so the only explanation that they had was that this was one of the the faraway towns that Jace had told her about.

That's how they arrived were they were the next morning, wandering through the streets of a town with buildings that at most reached five stories, and not fifty.

Stunned was the only word that Clary could describe Jace. He was walking through the town, with a dazed look on his face. "I didn't think these places existed," he said, eyes moving to the left to take in the small brick house beside them

"Neither did I." Clary was just as dazed as he was. She was so caught up in taking in the surroundings that she didn't see the girl that approached her.

It was only when she shouted, "Hey, Alec! We've got two city kids!" that Clary realised they had company.

Both she and Jace snapped their heads to the sound of the voice. It came from a girl with black hair that fell in a single, silky uniform sheet to her waist. Absentmindedly, Clary played with a lock of her untidy hair.

"You here to stay or what?" she asked.

Jace stepped forward. "Why is this some sort of town?"

"Something like that," said the guy who had just joined them, who Clary assumed was the 'Alec' that the girl had been talking about. "We're all here 'cause of The City. Thrown out of it, or just wandered upon it. Anyone's welcome here."

"And what do we do here?" Clary asked, wary. No one was kind for no reason, there were always ulterior motives.

"Get a house, get a job and don't get into any fights. That's it. Simple," replied the girl.

"How do you get a house if you have no money?" asked Jace, eyes narrowed.

"Pick any one you want, so long as no one's living in it," said Alec, walking away, the dark haired girl behind him.

"So I guess we just pick one then," Clary said, uncertainly.

"Yeah, but something feels a bit off," Jace said.

They soon realised why Alec had been so casual about giving a house to them. The house that they had chosen looked relatively fine on the outside, but on the inside it was if a wild beast had been locked inside of it.

Some of the floorboards had been ripped up and in places the plaster on the walls had come right off, revealing the brick behind it. All the furniture was broken, or was choked by dirt and dust.

"Well," Clary said, with a small laugh.

"At least we know why they let us live here."

"It's not The City," Clary said. That thought made her grateful for this shell of a home. But it was still the only home she had.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

Their house was completed slowly. There were a lot of arguments slowing the process down even more because neither Clary nor Jace agreed on the style of the house.

Jace wanted a minimalist approach to it: plain walls, minimum furniture, not too much decoration. Clary wanted the exact opposite, she wanted bright walls and colourful furniture that filled the room until there barely was enough space to walk.

With every day that passed, their friendship progressed. Who wouldn't be friends with the person you cleaned the toilet with? Some experiences, no matter how disgusting, bonded people better than others.

The thought that he was becoming increasingly closer to Clary was one that scared Jace. His entire life was spent flitting around the city, not staying anywhere for too long. It was strange that he was staying here. It terrified him.

If he put in effort here the more attached he'd be, the harder it'd be if anything went wrong and they (or just he) had to leave. But he still enjoyed the small town that they had found.

He enjoyed the peace at night, so different from the noises in the city that echoed for miles around. He enjoyed the monotonous activities that he spent his time doing. And most of all, although he was partially terrified, he enjoyed fixing up the house that Alec had given to both Clary and him.

It was nice to know that something he owned had not been stolen or bought with stolen money.

"Hey Jace! Where are you?" Clary's voice carried through the house from downstairs.

"I'm upstairs!" he shouted back. He put down the paintbrush that he'd been using to paint the walls.

"Well come here then!" He heard the thud of something heavy against the ground.

Sighing, he got up. Clary had probably brought home another piece of junk that would just clutter up their house. Jace's thoughts were confirmed to be true when he reached the 'living room'.

It wasn't actually a living room, it was just an empty room that was supposed to be the living room. They just hadn't decided on how to decorate it yet.

"Look what I got. Izzy gave it to me."

As soon as Jace heard Isabelle's name he knew that whatever Clary had been given would not be good. Isabelle, Alec's dark-haired sister, agreed with Clary that the house should be pretty and not just functional like Jace wanted it to be. To reinforce her ideas, she gave Clary countless pieces of furniture.

"Do you like it then?"

Clary pointed to a large vase that reached her hip. The glass looks like the surface of a fast moving river, images of flowers and plants caught in the ridged surface, sunlight trapped in other corners.

"What's the point of it? What kind of flowers are big enough to be put in it?" He only argued about her furniture choices because he couldn't back down now. At first he had only mildly disliked her style but now she was starting to grow on him.

"Stop being so moody. We're keeping this whether you like it or not." She tugged at the vase determinedly, trying to take it further into the room.

"I think we should keep it over there." Her hand was pointing to the large window at the far end of the room.

"Clary, it's gonna be a couple years until you get there. I bet someone helped you bring it here, didn't they?" asked Jace, following her.

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter." She tugged at the vase so that it moved another couple of centimetres. "I can do this myself."

Apparently, Jace wasn't the only one who had something to prove. Once again, she shoved at the vase, however, this time, it tipped forward slightly more so that it nearly fell, about to bring Clary down with it.

"Yeah, right," said Jace, shifting the vase again and helping her move it with ease. He made it look as if it weighed nothing but then again Jace was taller and larger than Clary so he had a better grip on the vase.

"I said I could do it," muttered Clary, putting her hands around the vase stubbornly.

"It didn't look like it."

"Why are you helping me anyway? I thought you didn't like this vase." She moved her arms so that they slipped under his and she had a better grip on the vase.0

It took Jace a moment that felt long to come up with an answer.

"_Because_ if it shattered and broke, which it obviously would've if you continued dragging the vase, it would've cut you. Then there'd be blood on the floor and it'd be hard to get out of the carpet _that I put in just yesterday_."

It had been so damn hard to put the carpet in yesterday. He had gained carpet burns all over his knees and cuts on his hands as well. Of course, Clary had ran out of the house as soon as he had lugged the roll of carpet inside. He was still slightly bitter, but mostly he felt an urge to preserve the carpet beneath their feet.

So he wasn't lying that much when he said why he was helping Clary.

"It's nice to know that the carpet matters more to you than your only friend," Clary said, shifting the vase into the correct space beside the window.

Her words were more true than he realised. She really _was_ the only person he properly talked to since they had arrived here. Clary hadn't though, she'd befriended Isabelle and this guy named Magnus who looked as if he bathed in glitter for fun.

Clary was the only one that he bothered to talk to.

"I love how you don't deny it," said Clary, grinning. Jace was still thinking about what she'd said.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

"I knew he'd agree to your ideas, biscuit," said Magnus Bane, a man who was dressed head to foot in an extravagant suit, with a matching top hat as well. Beneath him, the couch, which Clary had chosen, had been decorated with a pile of cushions embroidered with flowers. The vase, which was still there, was empty as Clary hadn't decided what to put in it - yet. Jace knew that it was a matter of time before some huge flower filled it up.

However, there was one thing in the now finished living room that Jace liked: the bookshelf. It was only half filled but the books upon it were ones that Jace loved and had spent the last couple of weeks reading whenever he wasn't fixing up the house or decorating it. Upon the dark wood there were also a few framed photographs that showed both him and Clary.

She had insisted on taking a few to decorate the house, but naturally Jace had refused. Still, Clary had managed to get a few photos of them together and, in all of them, Jace hadn't noticed that she was holding a camera until it was too late and a picture had already been captured.

Inside one of the frames, the photo that was slotted in had been taken a week ago, while they'd been painting Clary's room.

Jace was on a stepladder so that he could paint the tops of the walls properly. His clothes, hair, face and arms were splattered with orange paint and Clary was holding the camera smiling innocently at it while Jace had a scowl on his face because she'd dropped a can of paint onto his head (by _accident_ she'd said).

Luckily, the can had been nearly empty and so he'd only had a few drips of orange paint framing his face. But that still hadn't stopped him from chasing Clary around the house for the next ten minutes.

He hadn't won because he somehow ended up locked outside of the house while she was laughing from the window upstairs, waving her camera at him.

Jace never admitted to her that that was one of the best days of his life.

"I would but Jace doesn't like cats."

The sound of Clary mentioning his name brought him out of his daydream. He realised then that the conversation had progressed to an entirely different topic.

"Does Jace like anything?" asked Izzy from where she was lounging on the armchair, sipping from her glass.

_I like Clary_, thought Jace. He'd been having these non-platonic thoughts for a while now, ever since Clary told him what she had when they had been moving that vase. He never actually voiced his thoughts aloud, that would be a bit much, and he just hoped that the thoughts would tone down a bit so that it wouldn't be so awkward between them.

Jace didn't think that Clary noticed that it was awkward, but he did. Whenever her arm brushed his, he tensed up, feeling jittery. Or when she'd casually give him a hug or something he was always worrying that maybe he was holding her too tight or maybe for too long or not long enough. He hoped that his feelings would fade away because it was getting sort of annoying.

"Hey Jace, you good?" Clary appeared beside him and he realised that the room was empty and everyone had left.

"Yeah, why'd you say that?"

"It's just that you zoned out again. You sure you're okay?" Clary had moved herself so that she was sitting on the arm of his armchair, her legs brushing his. Could she _not_ do that?

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said, getting up so that he could have clearer thoughts that weren't centered around Clary. But it was useless because Clary got up as well and followed him out of the living room.

"I noticed that you hadn't listened to any of the conversation," tried Clary again as they walked into the kitchen. Why was this girl so persistent?

"Did you spend the entire evening watching my face? I wouldn't blame you really," he said as he continued walking through the kitchen until he was at the back door, had unlocked it and had stepped into the garden.

"As if," commented Clary. "No one was staring at your face."

"I find that rather hard to believe. Whenever I step out of this house, all heads turn towards me." He sat down on the stone patio facing the mess of the garden beyond. Though the house was complete, they hadn't tackled the garden yet

"I find _that_ hard to believe." Why did Clary have to sit down beside him? Why did she have to lean against his arm?

"You were there when that lady at the shop was flirting with me, you know the one who thought we were dating," he said, turning his head towards her.

"Well she must've been blind then," Clary said. "I'd never date someone like you."

Ouch. That hurt. A lot.

"I'm kidding," Clary said, when she noticed how he had froze.

Wait so that meant...

"So you would date me, I knew it." He wished his _stupid_ heart would stop beating so loudly for a bit.

"I never meant that." Now Clary was the one who was awkward and embarrassed her cheeks beginning to turn to red. "I meant that - you know."

Jace knew that she'd realised that she was blushing as he could see how annoyed she was.

"I actually don't know for once," Jace said with a slight grin. "Do you mean that you've had a crush on me ever since we've met. I wouldn't blame you of course." For once _he_ was the one making Clary feel awkward, though Clary had never made him feel awkward on purpose.

But Clary was glaring at him now (of _course _she'd be glaring at him) even though her cheeks were still brushed with red.

"No! I mean -" She made an impatient noise. "I meant - just. Damn it."

Suddenly she lifted her head towards his and kissed him.

Jace's first thought was that he'd just perminantly screwed up their friendship, but then he realised that _he_ wasn't the one who had began the kiss and that Clary was still kissing him back.

He could feel her holding onto his hair almost angrily, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Clary and the way she was kissing him, as if maybe she _did_ have a crush on him, like he did on her, and maybe she was a little annoyed at herself for her crush. After all, it was _Clary, _the girl who'd threatened to knock him out when they'd first met. But she was also the same girl who hugged him when she thought he was looking sad.

Clary was the first one to pull away, resting her forehead against his, eyes closed. Slowly, Jace lifted his hand to brush his fingertips over her freckles.

"You're still blushing," said Jace, grinning.

"Shut up. It's not like you didn't blush every time I hugged you." A sly smile was on her lips.

So she'd _known _every time she'd absently leaned against him or gave him a hug.

"For future reference, you might want to make it more discreet that you have a crush on a girl."

Oh god, now he was blushing.

"Well I wasn't the only one with a crush," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.

X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_

The wind tore through Jace's hair, its icy grip around his body. Below him, the scene of their town was just a smudge of colours, too blurry to make anything out. All he felt was the exhilarating feel of the wind around him and the steep heights that he was climbing to on his hover board. There was also the fact that Jocelyn Herondale, named after Clary's lost mother, was clinging to his back, her shrieks of joy making his smile.

"Jace Herondale! What part of get down here do you not understand?"

Looking down, he saw a bright patch of colour with red hair and a bright blue t-shirt. Clary. He began to descend slowly so that he was a few feet above her head.

"Clearly the get down here part," he remarked. Carefully, he swung Jocelyn around onto his hip. She giggled and waved at Clary.

"Jace you're gonna drop Jo. She's only four," said Clary, her face tilted back so that she could see them.

"Hi Mummy!" shouted Jocelyn, far too loudly for the short distance between them and Clary.

"No I'm not," said Jace, making the board dip up and down slowly to annoy Clary.

"Look Daddy, I'm taller than Mummy!" Jo squirmed in his grip trying to clamber onto his shoulders so that she could be even taller.

"Yeah but that's not very hard," teased Jace.

Clary crossed her arms over her chest. "Well I guess we know who's not going to get any cookies tonight," Clary said, directing her gaze to Jocelyn who'd stopped her squirming when she'd heard cookies.

"Daddy," she whined. "Let me go."

Now she was struggling to get through Jace's grip and was the verge of tumbling off the board and falling several feet onto the ground. Quickly, Jace lifted her further up his hip, his arms tighter around her.

"I'll get you ice cream if you stay with me," he whispered, into her hair.

There was a moment of silence as Jocelyn debated on what to do. Jace caught Clary glaring at him.

"No I want cookies!" she shouted, continuing her struggle to get to Clary. Of all the difficult things he had done in his life, holding Jocelyn when she did not want to be held was by far the hardest.

"Fine then," he said, pretending to sulk. Jocelyn didn't look at him.

"Yay," she shouted as they landed on the grass. She skipped towards Clary her red hair trailing behind her. Clary gave him a triumphant smirk and mouthed, "I'm her favourite." Jace, like the mature 25 year old he was, stuck his tongue out at her.

With his board tucked under his arm, he jogged over to Clary. Jocelyn was skipping ahead of them, humming a tune.

"Well now I know that you'd stoop as low as to bribe our daughter into liking you," he said, taking her hand in his.

"What do you mean? She just likes me better than you," replied Clary, innocently.

"Yeah she does, but only when you make cookies."

"Jealousy doesn't make you look good Jace," she said, opening the door to the kitchen. Jocelyn ran inside as fast as she could.

"You've got to wash your hands before you eat your cookies," shouted Clary, as Jocelyn was reaching for the tray of them on the table. In reply, she groaned and ran out of the room.

Jace closed the door behind him as he stepped into the kitchen, leaning his hover board against it. A second later, Jocelyn sprinted into the room again.

"Wash them with soap," Clary said sternly. With another groan, Jo left the kitchen. "You're such a mean parent," remarked Jace.

"I am not," Clary said, getting defensive. "I just want her to turn out great." He grinned at how worked up she got.

"Yeah, yeah. You're still boring." He slid an arm around her waist, placing his head on top of her wild hair.

"Cookies! I want them now!" shrieked Jocelyn, skidding into the kitchen in her socks.

"Please," reprimanded Clary, sliding away from Jace.

"Please," repeated Jocelyn.

Clary handed her a plate and Jocelyn ran out of the kitchen. Jace could see Clary about to tell Jo that she'd have to eat at the table but Clary didn't say anything. Instead she placed her arms around Jace's waist and pressed her face to his chest.

"Are you tired?" he asked as she pulled her head away from him.

"No, I just wanted to give you a hug."

"Feel free to continue."

She squinted her eyes as if she was considering. "Nah, I'm good."

"Rude," he said, swiping a cookie from the tray. As he took a bite out of it Clary shouted, "Hey I said, you couldn't have any!"

Grabbing it from his hand, she held it away from him.

"Actually you told Jo that."

"Well you can't have any now," she said.

"Maybe you should try harder at protecting your cookies," he said, taking it out of her hand easily and stuffing it into his mouth.

As he chewed, he picked up his hover board again and opened the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" asked Clary, her voice slightly muffled because she too was eating a cookie.

Hoping that she'd follow him, Jace ignored her and left the kitchen. His footsteps were slow so that she could catch up with him if she wanted to. If she didn't he'd feel a little stupid.

Luckily, he was saved from feeling stupid because he heard Clary's footsteps behind him and soon her hand was touching his arm. Tucked to her side was her hover board, so maybe Clary had taken the hint.

"What about Jo?" she asked, as Jace stepped onto his hover board.

"We're just gonna be in the garden. It'll only be a few minutes. Besides when was the last time you actually got out your board?"

Reluctantly, Clary hopped onto hers and she followed as he ascended steeply. Jace flew with his eyes open only a crack so that the wind pelted his face and he lost track of where he was. It was just like when they were younger and they spent the evenings flying because everything was so much nicer when you were watching it from above.

When he finally stopped, it was up high, hundreds of feet off the ground. Clary stopped beside him and she'd traded the frown that she'd been wearing for a grin that he hadn't seen in a while.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, turning his head towards her.

She laughed, a proper laugh full of delight. "Yeah okay, maybe it wasn't."

For a while, they stood there at heights that would terrify most people, but for them there was no reason for that.

After all, they knew that they wouldn't fall.

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**_Hmm not really super happy with this, it jumps about a bit and I feel like maybe their characters could be worked on a bit more. Also, though I spent around two hours editing, I know there are mistakes, so sorry for anyone who hates them, I'm one of those people. And wow I took over three months to update. I'm really selling my fanfiction here. Well I hoped you enjoyed and thank you so much for all the reviews and follows and favourites! You can leave suggestions for future oneshots if you want. Thanks for reading!! _**


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